


The Jam Continues

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Car Desperation, Hand Jobs, M/M, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Two hours after Steve’s near-accident, Bucky found himself jiggling his leg and resenting whoever the hell had caused this traffic jam. Steve, being close to a saint, had expressed the hope that everyone was okay, and that had been while he was pretty damn desperate to piss. Now, getting close to the same situation, Bucky was just mad some dipshit had crashed their car or whatever the hell had happened to cause them to just inch forward every ten minutes at best.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	The Jam Continues

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [The Traffic Jam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190462). Hope you guys like it, and leave a comment with anything else you'd like to see!

Two hours after Steve’s near-accident, Bucky found himself jiggling his leg and resenting whoever the hell had caused this traffic jam. Steve, being close to a saint, had expressed the hope that everyone was okay, and that had been while he was pretty damn desperate to piss. Now, getting close to the same situation, Bucky was just mad some dipshit had crashed their car or whatever the hell had happened to cause them to just inch forward every ten minutes at best.

“You okay?” Steve asked softly, reaching over and gently squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh. He was pretty sure he knew what it was about and wanted to offer whatever scant comfort or help he could.

Bucky let out a humorless huff of a laugh. “Now I’ve gotta piss,” he admitted. “Pretty bad.” He looked over at the blond. “I get what you mean now about not being able to just go on the seat.”

The younger man grimaced in sympathy. “All those years of not pissing yourself make it fucking impossible to do it,” he agreed, and slid his hand a few inches up Bucky’s thigh. “I can give you some distraction if you want,” he offered with a sly grin, which widened when the other man nodded jerkily.

Bucky had to concentrate hard on holding it as Steve popped his button and slid his zipper down, because it was distracting beyond belief just to think about what was coming. He shivered in excitement, thoughts of his bladder flying out his mind, though, when Steve’s hand slipped into his boxers and wrapped around his cock. “Fuck, Stevie,” he mumbled, glad the car was in park as he shifted into a better position for his boyfriend to jerk him off.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, grinning at the way Bucky’s body responded to his touch so quickly. He hadn’t done anything particularly fancy, or even that good, but they had slept together so much that the older man hardened in anticipation practically every time Steve got near his dick. “I’m so fucking glad Tony insisted we get tinted windows.”

“Finally,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “You complained about how we got around the laws about them for ages.” He leaned over, happy that Steve did the same, and nipped his boyfriend’s jaw. “Little tighter, baby,” he mumbled, pressing his hips up into Steve’s grip and groaning when the blond did as he was told. He could still feel the liquid in his bladder pressing insistently, but the sensation of being jerked off was much more important at the moment.

Steve scooted around in his seat so he could kiss his boyfriend sweetly, and then pulled back with a bit of a grin. “If you come, you’re just gonna get desperate again,” he told the older man. “So I’m gonna keep you on edge for a while. I got some tips from the Internet.”

Honestly, Steve realizing he could Google sex tips had been such a blessing. The man had already been good in bed, but now he could look things up whenever he had a new idea, and Natasha was forever giving him new ideas. Bucky honestly couldn’t tell if she was trying to be helpful or to fuck with them, but things tended to work out for them, and it was easy enough to laugh and get back to something fun when they weren’t into the shit she suggested.

Usually Steve took notes before he tried something new—he was a bit of a perfectionist and learned best by writing things down—but he remembered enough about the various articles he’d read on edging to work Bucky’s shaft slowly and teasingly. “Tell me what feels good, baby,” Steve purred, feeling a bit ridiculous as he nipped Bucky’s ear. It took a lot ot get him out of his own head and stop being self-conscious in bed, and he didn’t think that was possible in the car, trying to keep Bucky from feeling too desperate.

Bucky turned his head to kiss Steve deeply, shivering as his bladder squeezed and a wave of urgency his him. He squeezed his legs together, hoping Steve wouldn’t noticed, even though the blond would certainly understand. When his boyfriend started stroking him a little quicker, he sighed in relief; it pushed the need back by making him crave more touch and, preferably, an earth-shattering orgasm courtesy of Steve.

Steve noticed the muscles in his boyfriend’s thigh bunching and releasing as he pressed his legs together and tried to keep still, and he licked up Bucky’s neck and tightened his grip for a couple strokes. “There’s always the bottle if you need it,” he suggested quietly, hoping that he wasn’t going to break the mood and make his boyfriend’s erection, which held his full bladder at bay, deflate.

Pressing his hips up to fuck Steve’s hand a little, the brunet shook his head. “S’too much,” he mumbled back. “I don’t think I can stop and start like you,” he added; even after years apart in various forms of ice, they could predict each other’s arguments pretty well.

“We’ve got that sweatshirt,” Steve reminded him. “Hell, we can throw the damn thing out if you don’t want it after getting it wet.” Sure, the idea hurt his Depression-era sensibilities, but he wasn’t going to let Bucky explode his bladder like Tycho Brahe, the weird astronomer he’d found in a Wikipedia spiral. Seeing Bucky frown at the idea, he kissed him messily, distracting his boyfriend again. He’d bring up the idea again when holding it was even less of an option.

Bucky sighed into Steve, though he still couldn’t relax, even with the blond pumping his dick steadily. Hell, he couldn’t even get all the way hard with how badly he needed to go, which didn’t seem like a good sign. “Fuck,” he gasped after a second, but it wasn’t with pleasure; he was pretty sure that the liquid that had just leaked from his slit was urine rather than precome. “Faster, or tighter, fuckin’ something,” he begged, banging back against the headrest and chewing at his lip.

Obediently, Steve sped up; he didn’t think he could comfortably go tighter without lube or a fair amount of precome, and Bucky wasn’t turned on enough for that. He nibbled at his boyfriend’s ear as he thumbed the head of the other man’s not-quite-full erection, his own dick stirring in his jeans. Bucky was squirming a little but the new pace was apparently enough to keep the desperation at bay.

In the driver’s seat, Bucky was breathing heavily, and only half from Steve’s hand on his dick. Shit, maybe not even half. His bladder was throbbing between his legs, screaming to be emptied, and there was nowhere he could go. A sharp burst of need went through him like lightning and he unthinkingly reached between his legs to hold himself, but found his hand bumping against Steve. “Fuck,” he groaned, nudging his boyfriend’s hand out of the way to grip himself tightly. “Stevie, I really gotta go.”

“I know,” Steve said sympathetically. “Come on, baby, use the bottle,” he cajoled, holding the empty, crinkled bottle up and wiggling it for emphasis. “You just stick your dickin the top and let go. I know how bad you need it.”

Steve’s tone and the thought of the bottle just made it worse, and Bucky let out a high-pitched noise of desperation. Barely looking, he reached his metal hand forward for the bottle and grabbed it, but he was horrified when he heard a squeaky tearing noise. He looked up to see that he had ripped the bottle in half in his haste to grab it and felt his panic rise. “Steve, I need something,” he said on ragged breaths. “And I need it now.”

Steve leapt into action, twisting to look around the backseat again. They traveled light, thanks to their years in the Army, but there had to be _something_ that Bucky could piss in. His wild gaze fell on the half-full thousand-count ibuprofen bottle, the contents of which they had to pop like candy due to their metabolisms. The mouth of the bottle was more than big enough for Bucky to fit his dick in, which would eliminate some of the mess Steve had dealt with, so it seemed like the perfect choice. He opened up the glove compartment and dumped the pills into it before handing the bottle to his boyfriend. “I know it won’t hold everything,” he said, “but it’s something.”

Bucky used his flesh hand to grab this bottle, not wanting to risk breaking it like he had the other, and held his dick with his metal one. The grip wasn’t comfortable, but nothing was comfortable at that point. He was dribbling a little by the time he stuck his penis in the bottle, but the second he was clear he let go, piss spraying loudly against the plastic as he moaned openly. “Oh, fuck, that feels good,” he gasped, his hips jerking automatically with the pleasure.

“Babe, you’re gonna have to empty it soon,” Steve warned, grabbing the cold, damp sweatshirt that he had pissed on a little earlier. “Here, just go on this if you can’t stop,” he advised, pushing it onto Bucky’s thigh next to where his hand held the rapidly-filling bottle. 

As hard as he tried, Bucky couldn’t stop pissing, could barely even weaken the stream as he handed Steve the bottle and pressed the balled-up sweatshirt against his dick. “Quick,” he muttered, feeling the fabric quickly soaking through. “Steve, I need it back _now_.”

Steve had just finished dumping out the piss inside the bottle, and he was more than happy to hand it back to his boyfriend, who got piss all over his hands as he stuck his dick back into the opening. “You okay?”

Bucky nodded, amazed at how much piss he’d been holding. “Fuck, Steve, this feels better than that handjob,” he groaned, hips starting to move again as his dick swelled a bit in pleasure. “Pretty sure there’s something wrong with me with how good it feels.”

“Nothing wrong with you,” Steve assured him, kissing his boyfriend’s neck softly. “I’ll jerk you off again after if you want.”

That sounded damn good to Bucky, who tried to push the urine out faster. That turned out not to be the best decision, since he had to grip his dick tightly to slow his stream down to a trickle to let Steve empty the bottle again, but he finally finished on his third go-round with it, leaving it three-quarters full.

Steve dumped the last of the piss out and capped the bottle, putting it on the floor in case of future emergencies, before leaning over and starting to stroke Bucky again in earnest. “This gonna take long?” he asked, but he already knew the answer from how quickly his boyfriend got hard.

“God, Stevie,” he whispered, pressing his damp hips up into Steve’s hand, which was sticky with the urine that was already starting to dry on his skin. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good.” His breath hitched with every tight stroke his boyfriend gave him, and his balls were already drawing up tight to his body. 

“Come on, babe,” Steve murmured encouragingly, nipping the older man’s neck affectionately. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and he wanted to get a hand on himself too, but Bucky’s pleasure was more important right now. 

That pleasure was fast reaching a peak, and it only took two more upward thrusts before he came all over Steve’s hand and his own t-shirt, groaning brokenly the whole time. “I’ll get you back in a sec,” he promised, looking over at Steve’s lap.

“Make it a quick sec,” Steve said, wiping his hand off on the wet sweatshirt with a bit of a grimace. “You got me really worked up with that shit.”


End file.
